Ghost Hunters
by allthingsdecent
Summary: For those still bummed out about Forgiven, a wee bit of fluff to make up for it.


Ghost Hunting

"Mama, why are you making that funny face?"

Lisa Cuddy opened her eyes in shock, looked down, and saw her 3-year-old daughter standing by her bedside.

"Rachel!"

She bolted upright so quickly, she actually kicked House in the face.

He emerged from underneath the covers, looking dazed.

"House!" Rachel said gaily.

"House and I were playing, uh, hide and seek," Cuddy said. "Why are you awake, baby? It's past midnight."

"There are ghosts in my room," Rachel said.

Cuddy looked at House, who was still rubbing his head from where she had kicked him.

"The geniuses at her school decided to show them a children's production of A Christmas Carol," she explained. "Now she's convinced there are ghosts in her room."

"There's no such thing as ghosts, Rachel," House said. "Now go back to bed."

"No!" said Rachel. "I saw the ghosts. They visited Evan Neezer!"

"She means Ebenezer," Cuddy said.

House rolled his eyes.

"That's just a story Rachel," House said. "There can't be ghosts because after you die you simply— "

"Why don't we save the theological discussion until she's at least in first grade, House," Cuddy interrupted, glaring at him.

She had managed to discreetly pull up her underwear, although there was nothing she could do about the fact that her bra was unclasped and falling off.

Noticing this, House reached alongside the bed, grabbed her tank top, and tossed it at her.

"There are no ghosts in your room, sweetie," Cuddy said, pulling the shirt on. "I promise."

"But I heard them," Rachel insisted.

"That was just the wind, baby."

"Can I sleep in the bed with you tonight?" Rachel purred, putting on the baby voice she used when she _really_ wanted to get her way.

Cuddy looked at House, who shook his head and mouthed "N-O."

She gave him an apologetic shrug and said, "Just this one night, okay, Rach? Tomorrow night you have to sleep in your own bed like a big girl."

"Yay!" Rachel said, climbing into bed and snuggling between them. "A sleepover! This is fun!"

"Yeah," House grunted. "Fun."

#####

"You really shouldn't wear this blouse at work if you expect me to concentrate at _all_ at during staff meetings," House said.

They were in her bedroom the next night. House was leaning against the headboard with his arms around Cuddy, who was sitting between his legs.

"Like you've _ever_ concentrated at a staff meeting," Cuddy snorted.

"You do tend to wear distracting tops," House said, unbuttoning the offending shirt from behind and kissing her neck.

"I could wear a burka and you'd find it distracting."

"True," he said. "I can't help if you're like catnip to me."

His hands were now reaching down to the top of her skirt—then he began massaging between her legs. She leaned back, closed her eyes, sighed a bit.

"That feels good," she said, turning to straddle him.

"Mama!"

Once again, there was a rather spastic disentangling of limbs.

"Rachel! You've got to stop sneaking up on us like that. Sometimes House and I are in the middle of grownup . . . discussions . . ."

"The ghost is back!"

"No honey, I promise you. The ghost can't be back because there is no ghost."

"He said, 'Boo!'"

"No, it was just a dream, baby. There is no ghost and he most definitely didn't say boo."

Much to her surprise, House got up from the bed and took Rachel's hand.

"C'mon Rachel, we're going on a ghost hunting expedition."

"A what?"

"We are going to make sure that your room is certifiably, officially, 100-percent ghost free."

He marched her down the hall.

Cuddy could hear him saying, "No ghosts in the closet! Absolutely no ghosts under the bed! No ghosts in the chest! No ghost outside your window! I officially declare this a ghost-free space. You can now safely go back to sleep."

"You sure?" she heard Rachel say.

"The Ghost Hunting Inspection is 100-percent guaranteed—or your money back."

Rachel laughed.

"I didn't give you any money, sillyhead."

"True," House said. "I forgot to tell you. That'll be 3 cents."

Cuddy heard the rustling of coins in Rachel's piggybank. And more giggles.

"Hey, you took four cents!"

"Nothing gets past you, kid."

Finally, she heard Rachel say, "G'night, House."

"G'night, my little ghostbuster."

He came back to the bedroom, smiling triumphantly, and climbed back into bed.

"Well done, Inspector," Cuddy said.

"Now where were we?" House said.

Cuddy grinned, started kissing him. Things began to get hot again and House was about to finish what he had started the previous night when—

"Mama!"

"Oh for Christ's sake," House said, popping up again.

"The spection didn't work! The spection didn't work. I still have a ghost in my room. Can I sleep in the bed with you?"

She was using her baby voice again.

"No way," House said.

"Oh, we may as well, House," Cuddy said, rolling her eyes. "She's not going to leave us alone. Climb in, tiny. But this is absolutely the last time."

"Yay!" said Rachel.

House groaned.

"I'll be right back," he said, and he limped to the bathroom.

######

When Cuddy got home from work the next night, House and Rachel were already on the couch together, both in their pajamas, eating popcorn and watching TV.

"What are you two watching?" Cuddy said, squinting at the screen.

"It's the best cartoon ever about a ghost named Casper!" Rachel announced.

"And what kind of ghost is he, Rach?" House said.

"Friendly!"

"That's right. Casper the _Friendly _Ghost," House said. "And if you happen to have any ghosts in your room tonight, what kind will they be?"

"Friendly!" Rachel said.

"Exactly!"

"Good plan, House," Cuddy said. "What do you two want for dinner?"

But the plan didn't work, because Rachel was back at their bedside again, at about 11:30. (This time it was Cuddy who found herself "hiding" from House under the covers.)

"Nooooo," House said.

"Rach, you've got to sleep in your own bed tonight. We can't keep doing this," Cuddy said.

"But I'm scared, mama. It's not a friendly ghost. It's a bad ghost. A bad, mean ghost"

"Rachel I'm going to have to insist. . ."

Rachel screwed up her little face and started to cry.

"I don't want to sleep with the bad ghosts!" she said. "I don't want to sleep with the bad ghosts!"

She was really blubbering at this point. Snot bubbles were actually coming out of her nose.

Sighing, House pat on the bed.

"Climb in, shorty."

#######

The next day, House went to see Cuddy in her office.

"We've got to do something about Rachel and this ghost thing."

"I know," Cuddy said.

"She's not even scared of ghosts. She just wants to sleep in the bed with us."

"I know, House."

"So what are you going to do about it?"

"I don't know. She always used to sleep through the night. I've never dealt with this before."

"Well, read the child-rearing manual again. Because this whole blue balls thing is not working for me."

"I know. . . believe me, I'm as frustrated as you are."

House raised his eyebrows.

"I could lock the door to your office. . ."

"Are you out of your mind?"

"No, I'll be fast. And stealthy as a ghost."

"Cute, House. But I have an appointment with a donor in 5 minutes. And then I've got wall to wall meetings all day."

She smiled wearily. "What Rachel needs is a job. So she can come home as exhausted as the rest of us."

"Huh," House said.

#####

Cuddy put her hands on her hips.

"What on earth are you doing?" she said.

She had arrived home that night to find a makeshift obstacle course, involving pillows, a tube for burrowing, and an inflatable slide, set up in the living room. The coffee table and chairs had been pushed out of the way.

House was standing beside the course, wielding a stopwatch.

Rachel, slightly out of breath, was dressed in her gymboree outfit—bright orange sweatpants and her gold glitter sneakers with the Velcro closure. She had a hot pink sweatband around her head.

"We're playing beat the clock!" House said brightly. "It so happens that the fastest 3 year old girl on record can complete this course in 2.5 minutes. So far, Rachel's best time is 3.12."

He raised the stopwatch above his head.

"On your mark, get set, go!" he said.

Cuddy watched as Rachel scampered around the course quickly, tripping over some pillows, sliding down the slide, and shimmying through the tube.

"3.08!" announced House. "Again!"

Rachel ran the course again, laughing the whole time and panting.

"3.03. You're getting closer, Rach. Again!"

"House, she's exhausted," Cuddy scolded. "Rachel, why don't we play this game some other time? It's time for dinner. I brought home a roast chicken."

"Again!" Rachel said, clapping her hands.

"Again!" House said. "Cuddy, she's _this_ close to breaking the world record."

So Rachel did the course 3 more times, until she practically collapsed from exhaustion. Although her time had, in fact, been getting slower, House told her she was now officially the _second_ fastest 3-year-old girl in the world.

"Tomorrow, we can go for the record," he said.

Rachel was so tired that she almost passed out in her high chair, twice, during dinner. She didn't even say yes to dessert.

Cuddy carried her little girl into her bedroom, where Rachel was out cold before her head hit the pillow.

"I know what you were doing, House and I don't appreciate you treating my daughter like a lab rat," Cuddy said, when she got back to the dining room.

"A little exercise never hurt anyone," House sniffed. "Healthy body, healthy mind."

Cuddy shook her head.

"Well, at least your plan worked. She's out like a light. I don't think she'll be bothering us tonight. But I still wish you had checked with me first before you launched the Toddler Olympics in my living room."

"Clearly, I need to be punished," House said, grinning.

She grinned back.

"Yes, your punishment is putting the furniture back and doing the dishes."  
>"That's not exactly the kind of punishment I had in mind."<p>

"Sorry commissioner."

"But my leg. . .?" he said pitifully.

"You moved the furniture, you can move it back."

"You're mean," he said.

Cuddy gave him a coquettish look. "I'm going to take a bath. But after you clean up, there _might_ be a more fun form of punishment waiting for you in the bedroom."

"Now that's what I'm talking about!" he grinned, popping up.

####

When he was done, he limped quickly into the bedroom.

"I'm ready for my punishment, mistress," he said.

But Cuddy was lying on the bed, in a bathrobe, sound asleep.

He crept up to her.

"Cuddy," he whispered, rubbing her back. "Cuddy?"  
>She murmured a bit in her sleep, curled up tighter, and rolled away from him.<p>

"Cuddy?"

But there was no rousing her.

House sat at the edge of the bed and put his head in his hands.

"I can't catch a break," he said.

THE END


End file.
